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  1. - Top - End - #241
    Orc in the Playground
     
    Earl of Purple's Avatar

    Join Date
    Feb 2008
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    The Garden of the Angles
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Reviews!

    Nina: This story is quite emotional, and I really enjoyed reading it. Thank you for posting it.

    Candle Burning Bright: Still a good story, and I spy something beginning with 'W', I think. But I'm curious as to what happened to the other two.

    Black Friday: James is a right bastard- everyone knows that in the event of a zombie apocalypse, you help others when you can because that way they might help you when they can.

    The Last Entry in the Inspector's Log: I'm not familiar with the character, so I'm not sure how enlightening it may be, nor how in-character suicide would be. But it's still a good story, and I can imagine it being left on a rock at the top of a cliff.

    The End of the Road: Usually, different parts are in different posts as that helps people realise that it has updated, but I enjoyed the story. The vampire seemed a bit deus ex mechanicus-y, though.

    And now for something completely different, though referenced in Nephrim's newspaper in the AMEN thread.

    Demons & Daedra

    Spoiler
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    On the five hundred and seventh layer of the Abyss is a mountain shaped like a skull, which has been tunnelled out and turned into a palace by the Lord of the Layer, Adimarchus, Demon Lord of Madness, an ash-black humanoid with four tentacles growing from His back, each ending in a sucker-like maw. At this time, He is sat on His throne watching a group of cackling incorporeal allip play what looks like 'tag'. It's hard to tell which of the insane ghosts is winning, as they don't seem to be paying enough attention.

    At this point, a man walks in. He has white hair and a neatly trimmed beard, and he's wearing purple trousers and a shirt which is half red and half purple. His eyes are pure white, with no visible iris or pupil, and he strides towards the throne, using his wooden cane topped with an eye as a fashion accessory, primarily.
    "Hello! You're Adimarchus, yes? This realm's lord and master, the being with title Demon Lord of Madness?" The stranger sounds quite cheery, despite the titles he's uttering and to whom he's uttering them to.
    "I am He. Why are you here?" Adimarchus narrows his own, black eyes. Something seems... Off about this newcomer.
    "Perfect! I challenge you to a game of I Spy. If you guess within three guesses what I spy, I lose. If you guess within three guesses, I win. The winner takes the power, prestige, titles and realm of the loser Agreed? Good. I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'N'." The stranger turns as he speaks, looking out of a window at the sky.
    Adimarchus frowns and thinks. "Noon." The newcomer shakes his head. "Night." The time of day changes accordingly, but still the stranger shakes his head, unimpressed. "Nalfeshnee demon."
    "Oh, close but no banana. I had my eyes closed- all I saw was 'nothing'." The dapper man in purple and red stamps his cane against the ground, sucking Adimarchus inside as an earthquake marks the transfer of demonic power from the former Demon Lord to His replacement, at which point the allips flee.
    "Haskill, I need you!" A puff of smoke reveals a man in a black suit. "There you are, Hassy. I'd like you to help me organise moving all my stuff over here whilst I change the geography a little. Play nice, now."
    "Yes, My Lord." Haskill bows and disappears, leaving Sheogorath to take care of His new realm.
    Terrowin Avatar by HappyTurtle. Much thanks!

    I don't use the Registry; ask for a description if you don't know what my character looks like.

  2. - Top - End - #242
    Orc in the Playground
     
    Felandria's Avatar

    Join Date
    Sep 2012
    Location
    Olympus

    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Quote Originally Posted by Earl of Purple View Post
    Reviews!

    Nina: This story is quite emotional, and I really enjoyed reading it. Thank you for posting it.

    Candle Burning Bright: Still a good story, and I spy something beginning with 'W', I think. But I'm curious as to what happened to the other two.

    Black Friday: James is a right bastard- everyone knows that in the event of a zombie apocalypse, you help others when you can because that way they might help you when they can.

    The Last Entry in the Inspector's Log: I'm not familiar with the character, so I'm not sure how enlightening it may be, nor how in-character suicide would be. But it's still a good story, and I can imagine it being left on a rock at the top of a cliff.

    The End of the Road: Usually, different parts are in different posts as that helps people realise that it has updated, but I enjoyed the story. The vampire seemed a bit deus ex mechanicus-y, though.
    Yeah, the vampire served much the same role in the actual campaign.

    But the story isn't over yet, just need to take some time to finish it.

    Pony Felandria by Dirtytabs, OOTS Avvie by Purple Eagle, Doll by Recaiden
    FelandriaDeadra Blackfyre

  3. - Top - End - #243
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    McBish's Avatar

    Join Date
    Oct 2005
    Location
    Minneapolis MN

    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Nort Heynew's Life.

    This is a brief look at the major events of my character's Nort's life. It spreads a lot of time so it is fairly light on the details, but I feel like it gives a sense of who Nort is. Plus it is useful info if you just downloaded Nort's consciousness into your character and need to know more about him.

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    Nort was born on Earth, though as a child he often dreamt of being born on a far away world. He was always a little strange. His parents were both blue collar workers living in the suburbs of a major city. When he was young he would quickly grow bored with television shows, but could stare at dust floating in a beam of light all day. His parents were worried something was wrong with him when he didn't start talking till he was 4. Even after he started talking he would did so rarely, often going days without speaking a word.

    When he started school he seemed to come out of his shell a bit. He talked more and instead of seeming like a mute he was just a very quiet child. He answered questions and on days he felt brave he even offered opinions unasked for (only a quarter or so the opinion was that he needed more dessert.) His earliest memory that he can recall is the night sky.

    They were spending a week in a cabin in the woods in the summer. They had all been outside around the fire but Nort had slowly made his way away from the group. He wandered away from the fire enjoying the quiet he gained with distance from his family. He had one older sister and a younger brother, along with his mom, dad and the dog they weren't many quiet moments. Along in the darkness he remembers looking up at the night sky and being amazed by the all the stars.

    His fascination with stars didn't go away as he grew older. He read like a machine, going through book after book. He begged his parents to get a telescope, and when they did he spent as many nights as he could looking up at the stars. He read books about astronomy till he was asking his teachers about Relativity. He showed great potential in his math classes, though he struggled in his english and history.

    There was a brief period of time his parents really worried about him. Nort doesn't remember to much about it, but has pieced together enough over time. He had an imaginary friend that he would often talk to. This had apparently caused some trouble at school, a fight of some sort. Nort doesn't remember being hurt, and never could imagine him hurting anyone else. He remembers his parents being really upset and having to talk to a doctor. In the end nothing happened.

    In High School Nort had managed to find a quiet niche for himself and mostly spent his time alone with a book. He was friendly enough, and if asked no one would say they disliked him, but he didn't have any close friends. Eventually he would edit and write for the school newspaper, his movie reviews gaining him some fame. He sometimes liked to imagine he had this quiet mysterious look going on. He didn't.

    He went to college with enough scholarships that most of his costs were covered and his parents were more then happy to pitch in the rest. He took advantage of as many math classes as he could fit into his schedule. He had already moved beyond calculus and probably knew more physics then his old teachers in high school. Many students thought that he was some sort of prodigy. Eventually other students figured out he just studied harder and more then any three of them combined.

    He found that out on his own he didn't need to sleep as much as he had been. Rumors of him spending three days in the library straight were an exaggeration. He was just good at leaving around 4 am without anyone noticing and making it back without being seen. Eventually he had to slow down, and one of his roommates introduced him to alcohol. He didn't become a heavy drinker, but he did find a drink or two helped him open up and talk in a group of people.

    Math wasn't all he was studying, the college made students take classes in all sorts of things to get a well rounded education. Nort usually dreaded these, with one exception Argumentation. Basically it was a class that taught debate. Nort never was one to start an argument, at least not out loud. He often heard something stupid and come up with arguments in his head. When he was given the structure of formal debate he found he was really good at it.

    With this revelation he became more confidant. That in turn made him even better at it, it also got him his first girlfriend. Her name was Jennifer and she convinced him to join the schools debate team. Their relationship lasted for a couple of years, and they were some of the happiest of his life. He went to parties, he made friends, he learned about sex. But when they graduated, she moved in one direction, he went in another. An offer to get his doctorate on a free ride was too good to pass up. Jennifer knew that it was going to end, and always was happy that it did so on a high note. Nort still dreams about her.

    It was when he was working on his thesis that he first started to hear voices. It was late at night when he was working a complex series of equations when he heard someone whisper him a suggestion. He would have brushed it off but the idea stuck in his head. He followed the avenue that it seemed to lead for half a week, working alone in his apartment not seeing anyone.

    In the end he didn't use any of it. The ideas that the formulas he had worked out were ridiculous and fairly unfounded. They suggested a new way of looking at the universe. He neatly connected the ideas behind quantum physics those of relativistic physics and had the outline of formulas to work on. It could easily have been the biggest thing for decades in the science community. But if he told anyone he would have to admit it all started because of a voice in his head. So he didn't.

    Instead he became a professor. He taught classes and eventually found another woman that for one reason or another became attracted to him. It was always a mystery to him like most things with women. When he asked Mary she told him that she loved his mind, and the way his eyes saw the world. She was an english professor and loved words. Nort had always been a numbers man himself but found the way she talked beautiful.

    Nort wasn't one to ignore a beautiful thing, and as beautiful as his wife was, and his life for that matter, those formulas he had worked up sat in his desk calling to him. He felt like the man in Poe's Telltale Heart. Eventually he was staying up at night working on the papers, and as he worked the voices returned. Nort started working with them listening to their suggestions. He had himself half convinced it was just part of his mind figuring out the math ahead of the part.

    It quickly became an obsession. He spent more nights up and away from home. Growing distant from all the people in his life. Whenever he tried to go out and be with other people the voices started to prod him back to work. For the first time he started to see something that wasn't there, or others didn't see. A shimmering effect that he often saw out of the corner of his eye. He started to associate it with the presence of the creatures he talked to.

    Eventually Nort had an episode in the middle of the class. That freshman physics class got to see an hour long argument between one man and the voices in his head. It was about gravity folding a concept that would have sounded crazy to most physicists in his world. He left the school amidst a flurry of rumors. His wife who had been worry about him for awhile pushed for him to get help. In the end his refusal to seek help made up her mind in leaving.

    After the divorce Nort would have likely withdrawn entirely from the world except he got a job offer. No matter what rumors there were about him, he had proven to be a brilliant and innovative mathematician. So when a major company discovered a mysterious device Nort was brought in to study it.

    The device was found buried in a village that had been buried in sand dunes for 3000 years. It was a small box about 4” wide 7” long and 5” tall. One end had a small cord that was pliable but would remain in any position you molded it into. There were several small knobs on the the long sides, and the top of the box was a black touch screen showing commands in odd languages.

    The voices in his head were very excited by this box. In the past they mostly spoke to Nort about patterns and numbers. He had barely pieced together what they were suppose to be. He had long ago abandoned his hope that it was his subconscious mind. When Nort first saw the device the voices told him that it contained great power, and would help him in his work. The voices seemed to have some knowledge of the machine.

    Slowly it became clear to Nort that the creatures talking to him were guiding him for their own reasons. Eventually he pressed them for answers. He was close to burning down the entire building he was in, hoping that they would rather answer him then watch him die and his work burn.. That was when they told him they wanted him to help save them.

    They were under attack by an enemy that like Nort, lived in a portion of the universe that should have no contact with the one the voices are from. Somehow the enemy was finding a way to damage and slowly destroy the voice's home. In an attempt to try and save themselves scientist worked on theories that let might help them defend themselves or attack back. Contacting Nort was a mistake but one they thought was a godsend. Working with Nort would let them observe things in two separate physical worlds that can't overlap. After getting Nort up to speed he quickly proved valuable in their continued research. Or at least that is what they tell him.

    Nort worked at this company for two and a half years studying the device, he was one of the few scientist who could make sense of the strange machine. It could create fields with strange properties, act as a particle accelerator, masers and lasers and lots of other things could be created from it. Nort still isn't sure exactly what it does, but has discovered hundreds of functions it can do.

    During his time at the company Nort was seen as a productive but strange employee. He single handily discovered about 95% of what they learned about the device. Eventually though the company grew worried about the risk of employing a mad man. When he discovered that he was going to be let go Nort made a rash decision. He took the machine used it to tear open a portal and stole the machine.

    He wasn't entirely sure where he would end up, was fairly sure that he would be able to survive on the other side though. He had found out he machine had extensive safety measures in it that he couldn't override if he wanted to. That is how he came to the Nexus, unprepared and fairly sure he was insane. He fit right in. No one noticed when a new mad scientist moved into that old abandoned apartment building in a bad neighborhood.

    He managed to make his own electricity and steal the internet there. He collected a few old computers that he put managed to get up and running, and he continued to do his work. He got a data entry job so he could afford to eat and buy himself booze. Sometimes he breaks into science labs to use some of their equipment and computers.

    Living in the nexus has given Nort a philosophy in life he always keeps in mind. Living in a infinite universe means everything happens. Any moment in time happens an infinite number of different ways, an infinite number of times. That means there is a chance he isn't crazy. That the work he is doing could save uncountable versions of himself. That he didn't throw away his life for nothing. Some how maybe he can save the universe where he is happy.
    Check out My Writing
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    Thanks for the Nude Avatar MethosHazara

    Poem by me.
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    The stars glimmer
    and I can't help
    but wonder.
    Do they cry on those worlds,
    to?

  4. - Top - End - #244
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Viera Champion's Avatar

    Join Date
    Sep 2009

    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Stepmother
    The Adventure of a Villainess
    First Recorded Sighting Part 1

    (It's totally canon as part of Stepmother's backstory, but it happens in another universe, before Stepmother actually comes to Nexus.)
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    Every villain, super or otherwise, starts as an innocent little boy, girl, or whatever, or at least, that’s how the story goes. However, this is not that story. This is the story of a woman, one who many believe never was a child, or good, or even truly human for that matter. This is the story of the one known as Stepmother and how she came to preside in the conglomeration that is the Nexus.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Legend says that the Goddess will return one day, when she no longer finds interest in us, and when she does, she will destroy us and creation like the playthings we are.”

    “Stop teaching him your nonsense old man,” came a pretty voice. A woman’s voice, and a scolding one at that. “The boy already has his head filled with enough tales of wonder and adventure to distract him from his chores thank you very much.” An equally pretty woman walked across a bustling tavern room, seemingly the owner of the voice. “Now run along home Jax. Your mother would be furious if she found out you were hanging around this place.” The woman insisted, patting the boy on the head.

    She was a tall woman, taller than most men, and it gave her a commanding presence, causing features that originally made her seem pretty, to make her seem beautiful instead. Most found her appearance odd, her night-black curls and creamy skin seemed more fit for the silk and lace of a royal court then for the simple outfit of a tavern maid.

    “You lack faith as usual, Morgana,” shrugged the old man, scratching his bald head. “You know it is why you are still stuck working in this dump.” He shook his head, as if judging her for her lowly position.

    Morgana chuckled, shaking her head. “Says the mayor who spends all his time in this dump, getting drunk.”

    The mayor shot her a glare, disgruntled at the mention of his position. “I am a perfectly fine mayor I’ll have you know,” he grumbled, slumping in his seat. “Why just yesterday I got a compliment from the lovely Mistress Streya.”

    The tavern maid shook her head, a hint of disgust in her voice. “Asne Streya compliments everybody,” she replies with disdain.

    The mayor harrumphs, finishing off his mug of ale. “Nevertheless, I am a fine mayor. This village is still standing and the farms are suffering no shortages, aren’t they?” He motions for Morgana to refill his mug as he speaks. “So stop complaining and earn your pay.”

    Morgana shook her head, pouring his drink. “One of these days, a woman is goi-”

    Morgana froze, surprised, as the mayor leaped up rigidly and knocked his mug over, ale spilling everywhere. “She has come!” he burst out in a trancelike state. “The goddess has come to end what she has created! We must be ready!” Morgana had already disappeared out of the inn before he had finished his mad rant.

    * * *

    A scream came from the top floor of Asne Streya’s otherwise quiet house. Asne blinked in surprise from the main room of her house. There isn’t anyone here but me, she thought, confused, so where did that scream come from? Suddenly she gasped, her eyes widening in realization. A burglar perhaps? Well this thief is going to get quite a shock. She grabbed a knife of the table, and began to make her way upstairs, gripping the blade tightly between her fingers.

    The stairs creaked. She never noticed how loud they were before. She hoped the thief did not hear, at least not until it was too late.

    Asne was at the top of the stairs by this point, and she suddenly realized she had no idea which room the thief was in. Neither of the doors seemed to be open. She frowned in confusion. He must have somehow climbed up the building and through a window. She sighed, and opened the door on her right, her bedroom. She could barely suppress the gasp that rose in her throat. In the darkness she could see two red eyes attached to a shadowy figure that she could not quite make out. Two eyes that were looking directly at her. She felt that gaze right down to her bones. She couldn’t make herself move. The only thing Asne found herself able to do was utter three words. “What are you?”

    Asne Streya’s screams never escaped the walls of her home, and the night outside remained quiet and uninterrupted, yet at the same time, the inside of her home reverberated with the same phrase over and over again:

    I HAVE COME
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    Snow Flake: My Little Toshiro Hitsugaya Pony by Smuchmuch


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  5. - Top - End - #245
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Deathkeeper's Avatar

    Join Date
    Sep 2012
    Location
    Definitely lost
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    Male

    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    I was planning on my first story here being about Zebes or Jace, but then...this happened. I'm not sure if I'm happy with it, but I'm going to share it anyway, even though not many people know my characters. Still, I think Mark deserves a little extra backstory.

    Perspective
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    A man dies. The rest send him on his way.
    So began his wandering. He could have stayed, but he knew he wouldn't be very welcome. He thought they had enough trouble on their hands without adding a robot to the mix. So he left, plain and simple. It wasn't hard to sneak out. The hardest part was tidying everything up first before he left unnoticed. He went out the back door and took his first steps outside.
    He helps retrieve a lost ring. The woman sends him on his way.
    The city outside wasn't new to him, but it was still foreign. So many uncaring faces. So many needy faces. It always seemed sad, but that's no way to think of things. Master always told him so.
    He helps a lost man find his relatives. They send him on his way.
    The city has plenty to do, but it doesn't sit right. He'd rather keep going. He'd prefer not to stay too close to his old home.
    He saves a man beset by wolves on the road. He sends him on his way.
    The countryside is rather pleasant, truth be told. But there's not as much to be done. He'd rather find another city, more people who require aid. Maybe he'll find someone else there.
    He repairs a damaged wagon. The merchant sends him on his way.
    Scenery changes again. It's all unfamiliar, but then, it all already was. It makes no difference to him. It was subtle at first, but eventually it was enough for him to take notice. But he didn't slow down. In fact, he didn't do anything different at all.
    He gives advice to a young Loxodon on his way to a duel. He sends him on his way.
    He finds his way to another city. It's bigger, louder, beyond his comprehending. But it doesn't matter. People are people, buildings are buildings, problems are problems.
    He stops a man from mugging a fox-boy. He receives a hug and then is sent on his way.
    He carries a wounded mugger to a hospital. The staff sends him on his way, too.
    It's really not so bad. He always had a routine. He wishes he had one again, but at least he hasn't lost his purpose. And if it's taking longer to find Someone than he thought, well, he could be patient.
    He gives directions to someone new in town. The boy mocks him and sends him on his way.
    He misses his Master. He's ashamed, but he's broken the promise he made not to grieve. But then he's alright, because Master would have said that's no way to look at things, either.
    He meets another new person at the mall. He shows him around, helps him fight a mugger (this happens often). The man sends him on his way.
    He was built with the ability to sleep. He's supposed to use it, but he hasn't for quite some time. He doesn't want to dream yet. Not before he finds Someone.
    He sits down next to a lonely-looking kid in a playground he found while wandering. He's spent over a month in the Nexus, and helped more people than he bothered to count.
    And every time so far he's been sent on his way.
    Someone once asked him if being a construct made it impossible to feel hope. No, he told them, but it does make it impossible to feel hopelessness.
    "Can This One offer assistance?"
    Last edited by Deathkeeper; 2013-04-08 at 01:51 AM.
    Spako Highclaws by Ceika.

    [Sorry Boss, but as always, I get the last word.]

  6. - Top - End - #246
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    OrchestraHc's Avatar

    Join Date
    Mar 2011

    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Daedra: Anyone who doesn't know who Sheogorath is, is probably horribly confused. Wasn't exactly written to introduce us to him. I'd buy him challenging someone to I-spy though. Do you want to bring the big S to Nexus? Because that would be pretty sweet.

    Nort: This was really good. I wish I could manage to write someone's entire life and keep it interesting the entire time.

    Stepmother: Very good. Do want to see more. I'm serious, don't you leave me with a cliffhanger.

    Perspective: This was also pretty good. Repetition normally get's on my nerves but you keep it funny and sad and you just make it work.

    With the recent start up for Skyside, I got excited and started writing.

    So here's one for a kid called Gary and more importantly, a very dangerous lady called Motom for now.

    Desire: Take What You're Owed

    Warning: Depiction of Skyside may be wildly inaccurate from what may come.

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    Skyside was the prettiest damn lie Gary had ever been fooled by. No laws, no coppers, cheap living, just opportunity. What wasn’t on them pretty posters was slavers, mad men, almost no work that don’t involve getting a bit of you cut out without any ether. Cheap living cuz only nasty alleys are free. It had been a whole day since Gary ate and no one was giving out handouts. All he had to his name was a metal pipe he found in his alley, which he kept hidden under his coat. It was a useful little tool for protection, people think twice about messing with you when you got something to swing about, not that he was sure he could, or would, kill anyone with it.

    Timmy spent a bit of time looking for marks, and unfortunately most of the people were just as stupidly poor as he was, maybe worse. He needed money before he starved to death, while he was still strong enough to threaten someone with a pipe and look like he could use it. It was some stroke of luck finding a woman like her walking the Skyside streets.

    Shining, deep red hair, creamy white skin, glittery green blouse, and she smelled like roses. Any women who could afford perfume shouldn’t be walking around dirtier streets in Skyside. It would be irresponsible of Gary not to show her how dangerous it was. That sat well with him, a civic duty to warn her.
    Just as he was passing the woman he grabbed her hard by the arm and forced her to the wall. Either she was lighter than she looked or she went along with him the entire way. “Gimme all yah money, lady!” She just sort of stared at him, some kind of coy smile on her lips. “Oi! I aint playin’!” Gary said, pulling out his pipe. “Gimme yah money or I’ll brain yah!”

    “Oh I bet you’re serious. But money is so trite.” She laughs like she’s in no danger at all. Gary hadn’t noticed her lipstick until now. It was a dark red like her hair. From nowhere, she produces a funny looking coin, easily bigger than a silver dollar. “It’s just a means to an end. It’s something I’ve never desired. I’ll give you this coin if you tell me what you’ll use the money for.”

    Being offered money let Gary relax a little. Maybe he wouldn’t have to use his pipe club. “Food,” Gary said, not wanting to talk to the woman more than necessary. “Now give it here. No tricks!” he said raising his pipe a little.

    “And why do you want food?” she asked, sounding like she had no idea how stupid a question that was.

    “What the ‘ell kinda stupid question is that? To eat it! Cause I don’t wanna die.” What the actual hell? Are all rich people so stupid?

    “Survival. Good place to start but there’s something more. I can tell.” She stared into his eyes like she was looking clear through to his brain. “You’re angry aren’t you?”

    “Well yeah I’m angry. Aside from a certain lady withholding coins, I’m poor, hungry, homeless, and stuck. I could have just stayed in Riverside if that’s what I wanted.” He found himself blabbing more than he thought he would, he felt like scolding himself, but his venting felt so natural.

    “You’ve feel cheated, don’t you?” she asked.

    “Yeah.”

    “You desire what’s owed to you, yes?”

    “Yeah, I do! This place is just a fancier hell hole.” He had let her rile him up a bit, but she was right, they were right. What the hell was this place. No laws, all opportunity and letting Gary sleep in the cold. Where was his share, he came here just like everyone else, he works just as hard. Harder. Where’s what’s coming to him?

    “Yes. Hold onto that. Such fertile desires are just what I am after. Now for that coin I owe you.” In an instant, their positions from earlier had been switched. The lady had swung Gary around and pinned him to the wall. Her nails, they felt more like claws, dug into his arm hard. He felt the coin make contact with his forehead and effortlessly fall in like his skull was empty. His last sight was her smile, and as he blacked out he heard her whisper, “Take care of my baby, boy, and you’ll have your desire…”



    When Gary woke up, some yellow toothed old drifter was pawing at him. His hand still had a firm grasp on his pipe. He was about to shoo the old man off when TAKE his hand flew across the drifter’s face, the pipe along with it, and asking his jaw to come along as well. WHAT YOURE OWED

    Gary’s arm went for a back swing against the old man’s temple. If the first blow had him stunned the second had him senseless. Gary sat up and took a position over the old man. He brought the pipe up over his head CHEATED and down onto the drifter’s. He did it LIED TO again STUCK and again TAKE and again.

    Gary looked down at the body of the old transient and then to his bloody pipe. Is that what he’d been so scared of this whole time? That was easy. Really easy. Not letting good thrift go to waste, he searched through the drifter’s pockets. Gary found two whole dollars on him. Two dollars! Someone with even two shouldn’t try and take from someone with nothing if they aren’t prepared for a beating. Two whole dollars richer, Gary put away his rusty red friend and noticed a rose TAKE What rose? WHAT’S The rose YOURS His rose.

    He saw his rose poking out from under his collar. Of course he had his rose. Not like he could lose it. Little thing was attached. Plants do grow towards the sun. Might as well let it get some sun.

    His weapon away, he strolled off, leaving behind the body of that dirty hobo bleeding on the sidewalk. Two dollars couldn’t buy him a lot but it would keep him from starving at least. Today had been quite lucky for some reason.

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  7. - Top - End - #247
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    GrandDM's Avatar

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    In the Beginning

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    Nothing.

    The Void.

    And the fabric of reality unrolls. The gods emerge from the nothingness, struggling for survival. They grow and change, developing, learning to use their powers. They believe themselves to be first and greatest, and make mortal life in their image, each god creating his own race to serve as soldiers in the great war.

    But there was one who came before, one who pervades all the world, who lives in the hearts and minds of mortals and the darkness between the stars, deep underground and in the towering skyscrapers. Shadow, the embodiment of all darkness. Watching, listening. Sitting in the space between life and death, in the Darkness. Observing as the different species rise, developing technology and culture, learning about the world around them.

    Then came the Rift.

    The world was destroyed, ripped to shreds and devoured by the greatest tear in reality ever to occur across all the dimensions. The shards of divine essence, barely surviving, stripped of mind and power, were spat out into the raw Void. They grew once again, and developed into gods and Primordials, creating again a world from nothing, warring over its people and landscapes, forging their own realms outside the bubble of mortality.

    Shadow, still alone, still in the Darkness, watches. The new realm is different, and there are some mortals who can manipulate reality. One in particular burns brightly, and opens the door for the first time. Shadow emerges into the world.

    For the first time, he acts. Discovering powers like those of gods. Walking the world. Eventually, everything turns to dust, ended. Shadow turns his gaze to the worlds beyond the world. He summons all his powers, and rips open a hole in the world. The detonation shreds him, and only a tiny portion of his essence passes through. Enough that he is still a holder of great power, but now he is nothing to what he was.

    He learns, refining his techique, having to rely on a vastly depleted reserve of energy. Eventually, he can transfer himself vast distances instantaneously by travelling through the Darkness, the realm that all shadows everywhere connect to.

    He finds the Nexus, an intersection of the worlds in a far different manner than his home dimension. He enters, looking for a way to return to his essence. Searching, invisible, for months, but finding nothing.

    Perhaps one of the inhabitants could help..? But they would end, and he would be alone again, and feel the loss for aeons... it would be better to leave them be... but he has no choice. Where to start..? Perhaps an inn...
    Doctor Harald avatar by MethosH

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  8. - Top - End - #248
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Beans's Avatar

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    Underworld Waltz
    Chapter 2: A Quiet Moment/Deal with the Devil

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    Covered in bandages and icepacks, Neiz and Karyana sat on the couch of the blonde's cozy little apartment, the TV buzzing in the background.

    "Okay," Karyana repositioned a bag of frozen peas above her eye. "So we've gotta find out where they took your hubby and who he's stuck with... I'm not an expert on Epitaph, but you guys sound wealthy enough that they'd probably be wanting ransom, so I'd wager he's being kept with Caspar if we're in luck---he knows well enough not to 'damage the goods', as it were..." She frowned. "That sounded really cold and impersonal, I'm sorry... but, no matter if we have to fight our way through a few meatheads to do it, we'll pay Caspar a visit and, hopefully, find your husb---oy, keep those feet to yourself, missy." Karyana rolled her eyes, brushing Neiz's intruding toes from her lap. "Maybe I'm your new friend, but I'm not a pillow."

    The long-haired girl giggled with a shrug, pulling her bare feet back. "Sorry, habit of mine. Thanks again for, y'know, all this..." Her expression sobered. "I just hope Luro's okay."

    -

    The boy's feathery white-blond hair was still crusted with flecks of dry blood from when those mooks hit him last night. He thought it was last night, at least; he wasn't sure how long he'd been out, and his watch wasn't on him when he woke up. He really couldn't tell how long it'd been, only that his head hurt from the blow and he remembered the heavy, crushing stink of chorophorm. Oh, and the room kinda sucked; an uncomfortable cot, no window, a harsh fluorescent light and a sink.

    For the first time since he'd woken, the door opened; in walked someone far less unpleasant-looking than the thugs who'd beaten him up and kidnapped him; a smiling, excited-looking young lady, black-haired and blue-eyed... and with twitching black cat ears and a swishing feline tail.

    Wait, what?

    The cat-eared girl smiled at him, ruffling his hair. "Well, aren't you just the cutest little thing? Hi, call me Pesty! How are you feeling, kiddo?" Seeing his wince as his headache was aggravated, she backed off and sat on the bed next to him. "Don't bother with your name, I know it already... your head hurt?"

    He sighed, nodding. "I sort of got beat over the head with... it might have been the heavy end of a pool cue? I could use something for my head, tylenol maybe, if you have some..."

    She pulled out a small ziploc bag with a handful of pills, pressing it into the boy's hand. "I figured you'd need something like that... sorry they were so rough, I hate how much they hurt people, I really do..." Leaning over to present her head and ears, she stretched and yawned. "I'll tell you things, buuuuut I expect payment. In pettings."
    A moment passed between them, turquoise eyes staring into sky-blue ones.
    "... Seriously, pet my ears or I tell you nothing."

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    If you're looking for stuff on my old project Rider: The Transformation, look here.

  9. - Top - End - #249
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    C'nor's Avatar

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    So. I have decided to create a Planeswalker. However, that gets crazy-powerful fast, so I'm also adopting Mr. Moon's restriction that they must acquire their creatures and such on-screen.

    Emancipation Angel:

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    Today marked the start of the fourth week of this battle. Drawn out, moreso than one might expect, to be sure, but both sides had great numbers, and this dense forest made it nearly impossible to find the enemy, other than by a small patrol out hunting running into a similar group from the other side...

    Selia had been thoroughly sick of it well before the end of the first. She hadn't been supposed to fight. Oh, she had a sword, certainly, but it was only there in case she ended up attacked somehow... At least, that was what they'd told her. Supposedly, she was to be freeing those who did well from the fighting, and that was all. Except for, perhaps, returning the wounded to the healers.

    In practice, she ended up replacing them. It had happened so often by now that she didn't even bother going back up anymore, just stayed down until someone called for patrols to form up...

    Still. That didn't mean she wanted to be here. She just had a well-developed sense for when it was inevitable that something would happen, and she'd given up trying to fight that sort of thing.

    Well. Mostly. There was a reason that she was currently sitting in the corner of her tent, watching the flickering light from the tiny brazier of coal in the center play over her sword, wondering if it would go through her as easily as it had through everything else she'd killed - and for that matter, if she would actually end up not fighting if it did. Plenty of her superiors disapproved of such things, after all; it was quite possible she'd just end up dumped down to the other side.

    All of this was moot, of course. She'd tried already, when one of the other Angels assigned to this conflict had died, and she hadn't been able to - whether that was because of interference from those above her, or she just wasn't capable of it, she couldn't tell, though she suspected the former.

    The sudden presence of a newcomer jarred her out of her reverie, and she examined her curiously, wondering how she'd managed to get this close to her without her realizing someone else was in her tent.

    "You look... Tired," the short, white-haired, woman said softly after a moment, smiling gently at Selia. "Your job is to grant respite, but it seems you are to get none of your own? I can change that, if you like... All you need to do is take my hand."


    Vana has acquired Emancipation Angel.

    Adarkar Valkyrie:

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    Karaia was, to say the least, concerned. Two weeks ago, another Angel had disappeared. Most thought she'd died, since Angels didn't, in most cases, stick around on the mortal plane, and she had had no steady patrol, meaning that asking everyone who she might have gone out with was nigh-impossible.

    She, on the other hand, knew better. The lives of the relatively few Angels here were under her purview, as were those of all the humans in this particular area, and she would have known had Selia died. However, seeing as deaths were to be expected, but random disappearances were not, this information was not precisely comforting...

    Still. At the moment, potentially important as it was, she didn't have time to worry about it any further. It was time to fight again...

    ---

    Karaia was not, precisely, flying. It would, in fact, be more accurate to say that she was hopping with wing-assist, seeing as she was primarily pushing off, then landing almost immediately on another branch. But still, it was effective at getting through the forest without putting herself at risk until she had someone to bring back, and kept her where she could see the field, so she wasn't going to complain...

    As she examined the dying combatants below her, however, she was struck from behind, shattering her right wing, and sending her tumbling towards the muddy ground, which was suddenly starting to look much further away.

    In her tumbling, she managed to see that, apparently, what had struck her was a massive spider, one that was fond of preying on things that strayed too far up, though further contemplation on the matter was interrupted by the fact that she was struck by several arrows as she fell, at least one of which hit a lung.

    The impact drove whatever breath she had had left after that out of her, and probably broke several more bones, though mercifully, she couldn't feel that, or much of anything, for that matter, though she could tell it was cold...

    A few moments later, she tilted her head back - at least, as much as she could, though her control over her body was spotty, at best -, as, having heard a series of squelching footsteps approaching her from behind, she was determined to at least see whatever killed her.

    Oddly, though, the person coming up behind her was a short, white-haired, woman, and, more specifically, not someone she remembered seeing on the field before she fell, which ought to have been impossible.

    "How ironic," the newcomer remarked quietly, kneeling down by Karaia, and gently lifting her head. "They gave you the ability to save any life but your own... Selia, take her, would you?"


    Vana has acquired Ardarkar Valkyrie.
    Last edited by C'nor; 2014-06-25 at 11:41 AM.

  10. - Top - End - #250
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    Lord Magtok's Avatar

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    Hey guys, remember Skyside? Yeah, me neither. But this is set sometime before that goes into full-swing and such. Orch's thing was nifty, so I thought I'd make my own.

    Operation Druid Surprise

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    Somewhere in the city of Inside, an apartment burns, the only light for miles in a particularly desolate part of the Red Zone. Not too far from the scene, but just far enough to elude suspicion, HazMag presses a comm device to his ear with one hand, as the other casually presses the barrel of a revolver into the chin of an especially miserable-looking man kneeling at his feet. He doesn't even bother looking at his unhappy companion, either too occupied with his call or confident that his kneeling captive isn't capable of mounting anything but the most feeble of resistances at this point. Though his prisoner is neither bound nor gagged, he's right; there isn't a single thing the hostage could do at this point.

    "Toxic Avenger to Whorehouse 13, reporting. The runaway meatball is secure. I repeat, the runaway meatball has been secured. And with that out of the way, let me just say that you have got to stop sending us on missions like this, sir. Over."

    "What? Which is the meatball, and who is the...Oh! Oh okay, misplaced my notes for a moment. Anyways, what are you talking about, you said loved wetwork, Haz!"

    Haz grits his teeth and narrows his eyes. "This isn't wetwork, sir. Over."

    "Oh really? And here I thought kidnapping a rogue MagClone and bringing him back home before he can make things evenmore politically unstable for us was the textbook definition of wetwork. Save your tears for someone who cares and put the cowardly spaghetti on the phone, Haz."

    "It's 'runaway meatball', sir. Stupid codenames and bull**** jobs like this are exactly the problem; you're not taking this seriously, sir. Over."

    "I think I put more than enough effort into indulging your stupid army boy obsession as is, Haz. You do remember that I could stop your heart any at time I want, right? With nothing more than a thought. A thought, Haz. If I feel like giving you crap assignments that aren't the least bit fun or serious, there's not a goddamn thing you can do about. Now quit whining and put Dr. Godlark on the phone."

    Haz practically growls at that, so irked is he by Magtok’s stubborn refusal to keep to assigned codenames. He decides to take his temper out on Dr. Godlark's face by abruptly shoving the communications device at it. The good doctor hesitantly accepts the walkie-talkie, terrified of what might happen if the gun-toting psychopath were agitated further. It's been a while since he used one of these; he's not entirely sure he's holding it the right way. Is this the right button, or-?

    "H-hello?"

    "Doctor Godlark, glad you could join us! I am so sorry about what happened! Your gene therapy notes were going to change the world! To see them all go up in smoke with your apartment...and such a nice apartment too, that's-"

    "It wasn't that nice. The insects in the walls weren't anywhere near as social as the one's you got back at the Cave. Your representative tells me I'm to be relocated to a new place shortly, anyways."

    Magtok chuckles. Humor, even in the face of overwhelming despair and hopeless defeat. A common coping method amongst his kind. "That's right, we've got a lovely little villa up in Skyside for you! Fully stocked laboratory, automated security watching you constantly, cute intern girls to boss around, the works. We have important projects planned for Skyside, and only your unique mind has what it takes to make them a reality! It'll be just like home, only better!"

    "Minus the black bags shoved over my head in the middle of the night and the fires set to my every worldly possession, I presume?"

    "You have my word on that," the other cyborg replies, with an implied giggle or two in his tone.

    The kidnapped physician rolls his eyes. Like a MagClone's word has ever been worth anything, especially when given so freely like that. "Magtok?"

    "Yes?"

    "I would like, for a change, for my science to be used for the betterment of Nexus-kind."

    There's a lengthy pause on the other end of the line, before a significantly less mocking reply follows. "You have my word on that as well."
    Quote Originally Posted by RabbitHoleLost View Post
    Magtok's the best
    "You probably found 'How to Survive a Robot Uprising' in the humor section. Let's just hope that is where it belongs."
    -Daniel H. Wilson
    The Original Hooded Magtok avvie by urodivoi
    You can find me (and people almost as great as me) on the Nexus Server For Cool Attractive People! Come join us!

  11. - Top - End - #251
    Titan in the Playground
     
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    It's been a while, hasn't it? I finally got around to reading some stories and providing comments.

    Demons & Daedra: A TES/D&D crossover? Strange, but interesting. Sheorogath is a pretty amusing guy.

    Stepmother: Not particularly original, but not bad for what it is.

    Desire: Take What You're Owed: Not bad. A rather classical "mugger runs into a powerful being" story, but pretty good all the same.

    In the Beginning: I can't say I'm a fan of stories and characters with such scope. Still, it's alright.

    Perspective: Pretty good. I liked the repetition and a bit of a mystery as to just what's going on.
    My FFRP characters. Avatar by Ashen Lilies. Sigatars by Ashen Lilies, Gulaghar and Purple Eagle.

  12. - Top - End - #252
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
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    Quote Originally Posted by Morty View Post
    Stepmother: Not particularly original, but not bad for what it is
    Thanks. Yeah, Stepmother isn't really supposed to be original. She is supposed to be the biggest conglomeration of villain stereotypes.
    LGBTitP
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    Snow Flake: My Little Toshiro Hitsugaya Pony by Smuchmuch


    Kyasarin Shihan drawing by the talented Moon Wolf

  13. - Top - End - #253
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    So. Um. It's been a while. I wrote a thing.

    Jay Cozart
    A Grave Investigation
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    It was a hot day. I had hoped that morning that it wouldn't be, and had opened a window as soon as I got in, in an attempt to coax a cooling breeze my way, but I'd only seemed to attract more heat, and by midday the inside of my office felt like the inside of an oven sitting in the heart of the sun. The polished bronze plaque on my door said “Jay Cozart, Private Investigator”, but at the moment I wasn't doing much investigating, private or otherwise. After that rather embarrassing case involving the sleepwalking orc which had somehow made it onto NexTalk, my business had dried up faster than my second and third marriages, and most of my work day was spent lounging in my office.

    Not that that was necessarily a bad thing. My office was built for lounging. I was lying on the couch at the moment, staring at the clock on the wall and trying to ignore the increasing sogginess of the fabric under me, but at a moment's notice I could have relocated to the plush leather chair sitting behind my desk, which was laden with the tools every self-respecting PI needed: a dented brass spyglass; a tall bottle of finely aged scotch; a crystal ashtray; an intercom for my secretary, Deborah; a photo of my second-to-last wife which I had forgotten to throw out; and lastly, a standing calendar, marked with upcoming important dates. A younger man, with more craps to give, might have taken issue with my choice of calendar, but it was my office, and I felt the right to fill it with whatever I wished. Besides, I considered myself nothing if not a patriot, and if the Commander of Inside felt it was her civic duty to produce such marvellous images of herself, I considered it my own civic duty to put them proudly on display.

    The minute hand of the clock was steadily ticking past the blank space where the number six should have been, and I briefly considered going out for lunch, only to put the idea out of my mind, since it would mean walking around the corner to the nearest MagDonalds. A knock on the door interrupted me from my deliberations however, and, planting my elbows on the couch, I tried to push myself upright. Then I took a few deep breaths and tried again. Successfully, this time. About half a minute later, I eased myself into my leather chair with a little more satisfaction than I was comfortable feeling, and was trying to smooth down my greying hair using the reflection in my ex-wife's portrait, when the knock came again.
    “Come in.” I said, lowering my hands to the table.

    A short woman with short dark hair walked in, carrying a brown paper bag from which greasy smells far too delicious to describe emanated. She was prettier than all but one of my ex-wives, with dark eyes and sharply defined features, and I knew enough about these things to tell that she could have been very pretty indeed, had she put any effort into it, instead of looking like she'd just gone three days without sleep, like she usually did when I saw her. I kept these opinions to myself, partly because it wasn't any of my business, but mostly because I valued my internal organs.
    “I bought you lunch.” Said KR, holding up the brown paper bag and dropping it on the table. “I figured you probably hadn't gone out yet, especially not on a day like this.” She turned to take off her coat, putting it on the stand by my own coat and hat, and I took the opportunity to look inside and discover a double cheeseburger and fries, before folding the top of the bag back over and placing it under my desk. Her hands were clean, but the oil stains on her grey t-shirt meant that she had been working in her lab before visiting.

    I gestured for her to come over and sit on the wooden chair in front of the desk, then, after a moment's thought, pulled out two lowball glasses from a desk drawer, pouring scotch into each of them.
    “No thanks.” Said KR, walking back over. I shrugged and poured the second glass of scotch into my own glass. No point in wasting it, after all. Besides, KR's rare visits usually meant I needed the double glass, and I wasted no time in taking a quick sip as she sat down. Her eyes flicked over to my calendar and she gave a small start at the image on it. Her momentary lapse was soon suppressed, however, and she took a closer look at the calendar.
    “Has it really been a month since I last came here?”
    “Two, actually. You missed Lieutenant Commander Delisle.” I said, choosing not to mention that the name of the month was clearly printed in bold font, had she chosen to look at the bottom of the calendar instead of Commander Vasquez's breasts. I was especially fond of my kidneys.
    “Oh. Right. Of course.” She said, quickly looking away from the calendar. “I've been busy.”
    “I'm sure. But I appreciate you taking the time out of your schedule to visit me.”
    She gave me a quizzical look, and I took the time to enjoy the sight of my sarcasm soaring magnificently through the air like a condor before crashing into the door with a loud screech.
    “Actually, I came because I have a job for you.”
    “Really? How shocking.”
    She gave me another quizzical look, mixed with a small amount of frustration, and I decided to stop being sarcastic for the moment.
    “So what's the job? Not more cultists, I hope.” I said, remembering the last time I had taken a job from the WATCHTOWER leader. Locating the town house they used for their ceremonies had been easy enough, but I had then made the mistake of letting her rope me in to help her stop them from summoning whichever dark deity with too many syllables in their name they had decided was worth their time. KR had done most of the fighting, of course, and I had technically only been there to watch the door in case any of them tried to run, but somehow I had still ended up on the floor, wrestling a shrieking cultist dame trying to tear my throat out with an obsidian dagger. I'd survived that night without any injuries, mostly due to the practice I'd gotten from my seventh marriage, but it wasn't an experience I wanted to relive. I'd never look at a tit the same way again.
    “No. Weapons deals. And I only want information this time. Some of my contacts have been telling me that someone new has been buying a suspicious amount of weapons and armor, but they haven't been able to find out who or why.”
    “Hmm. Black market weapons dealings. Sounds dangerous.” I said, not convinced by her reassurance of 'information only'. The jobs I took for WATCHTOWER were rarely that straightforward, even the ones that didn't end with me almost getting my head cut off.
    KR frowned at me.
    “If you won't take it, I can get some of my members to investigate instead.”
    I shook my head. A job was a job, and I needed the money. I didn't think I would get another opportunity like this in a long time.
    “From what I've seen, I don't think half of your members could find a broom in a cupboard. Especially that long-haired lunk with the scars. Enough brains to swing a sword, and not much more. Or else he'd think to maybe dodge sometimes, huh? I'll find your mystery weapons buyer for you.”

    She gave me a flat stare.

    I decided I would never mention the guy with the long hair again.

    “Good.” She said. She reached into a pocket, pulling out a wad of bills. “I think that should be enough to start you on your search.” She said, placing the money on the table in front of me.

    KR stood, walking over to the rack and taking her coat off of it.
    “You know my number. Call me when you find something.” She said, pulling it on. I tried to take another sip of my scotch, only to find that it had all disappeared, possibly in the middle of that long silence. I deliberated for a while, before pouring myself another glass. She had left already.

    I took the money off the table and put it in my wallet, then stared at the brown liquid sitting at the bottom of my glass for a few moments, deep in thought. I held down the button on my intercom.
    “No more visits today, Debbie. I'm working on a case.”
    “For the last time, butthead, I'm not your secretary, and once I figure out how you keep hacking into my intercom, I'll-”
    “Thanks Debbie.”
    I took my finger off the button, then picked the paper bag off the floor and put it back on my desk.

    It was time for lunch.
    Quote Originally Posted by Lord Magtok
    She’s graduated from child soldier to unstable teen sorceress, way to go.

  14. - Top - End - #254
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
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    Heartside Hotline - This Is The Trash Magtok Writes At 2AM When He Should Be Sleeping

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    YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE! *BEEEEEP*

    Hi, it's Alex, from the Heartside Hotline dating service! We've reviewed your profile, and compiled a list of potential matches for your examination. Please drop by 564 Kaela Avenue at seven sharp tonight to review the selection provided. Bring a red pen, and remember, we don't want any further incidents. Be discreet!

    *CLICK*

    A gloved hand tapped a button on the answering machine, and all was silent. 7 PM, then. Enough time to pick the right red pen, and change into a fitting suit for occasion. This would be the fifth time an Alex had contacted him for a thing like this. He wasn't quite certain who he, or she, or they were, how they had obtained his address and slipped an answering machine into his home, or why they kept leaving these messages, but then, these days What wasn't sure about a lot of things.

    *CLACK*

    The Skyside taxi's door shut tight behind him, the driver wordlessly already en-route to What's destination before he could even wave the strip of paper he'd written the address on. More confounding puzzles that a more inquisitive man than What would think to question. In fact, he had half a mind to ask his chauffeur just what this was all about, before realizing there wasn't any room left to scrawl such a query on the strip.

    Before long, the destination was reached, What was stepping out of the cab, and the taxi was screeching away before he could so much as pantomime a request that the driver wait out here for a few minutes. A bother, that. What never liked long walks back home, especially not in this city. Too many variables, too many people with the nerve to approach him right on the street. Figures that a city of inquisitive scientists would have trouble keeping its nose out of other folks' business.

    "Can I help you, Mister...?"

    The guard at the door never gets a name off the pumpkin-headed stranger in a black suit. Not because What is a mute (which he is), nor out of any sort of disrespect, but because the moment the bouncer opens his mouth to object to What's presence, the assassin in the black suit is officially on the clock. A 'red pen' is swiped across the man's throat, and then stabbed upward, snapping through arteries, vocal cords, and bone before the targets inside can be alerted. A quick, clean, silent kill, if anything quite so bloody could be considered 'clean', as if the flailing of limbs and hoarse wheezing noises from the victim mistaken for silence.

    What left the writing utensil wedged in that miserable, bleeding sack of flesh behind, opting instead to take a 'pencil' out of his briefcase. He needed to be fast once he stepped inside, the 'red ink' splattered all over his suit jacket was sure to make matters self-explanatory to the building's occupants. A victim who understands the situation isn't a victim, they are an adversary. A foe one must engage in the vicious ballet that is melee combat, wasting precious seconds that could be devoted to dividing his compatriots into gory fragments of their former selves.

    "****! IT'S WHAT! HE'S GOT A KNI-"

    There's always a moment of confusion when one victim tries to inform another of his presence. Even when both are aware of the golem's name and reputation, the phrase 'What is here' all too often comes off as a bizarre non-sequitur of a question, demanding information instead of providing it, a macabre reflection of that old baseball comedy sketch. His victims either die knowing they've been killed by What, or dying wondering what killed them. One might find that funny, if they weren't quite so dead inside. What fills the moments between howls of laughter with screams of agony.

    Make no mistake, however. As efficient as What was at these tasks, it was hardly ever easy. A suit can only be perforated with so many bullets, hacked up with only so many knives, or scorched by so many lasers. Fast reflexes were essential, and one wrong move could knock the pumpkin right off his shoulders. At one point, a seven-foot cyborg seizes him by the throat. What swings his feet up to meet the giant's own neck, quick to snap the gargantuan beast's neck with his matte black dress shoes. The nerve of these people, standing up to him.

    What marched through corridors, his pencil cutting a bloody symphony, a crimson opera across floor after floor. Arms extended outwards for rifles, for lasers, for mercy, but all fall down just as swiftly as those before time. Cyborg attack dogs, mutated war-panthers, and all manner of mutants accompany their lab coat-clad masters as scattered organs and limbs strewn across the floor. Red ink stains walls, stains floors, stains suits. Dry cleaning can only do so much; a tailor would have to be found to replace What's clothing entirely.

    "P-please, you've gone through my every defense, I have nothing left! J-just take it! Take what you came here for and leave me!"

    It wasn't until this majestic concert was almost over, and the actors and actresses were setting up the last song of the final act, did this last blubbering sack of meat finally show himself, having fled to the roof in the dim hope What would be finished off by some rabid dog before he could reach his last victim for the evening. The man offers blueprints, secrets, weapon designs. Typical last-ditch plea for mercy stuff. In a city of crazed super-scientists, that's all anyone seems to offer: someone else's dirty laundry, or a brand new way to kill a man.

    *CRASH*

    The last occupant of the building crashed through a parked hovercar in the street below. Instant death, or something close enough to it to count, anyways. The building ignites as our assassin made his exit, taking the blueprints, the secrets, and the weapon designs with them. They always seemed to think What's just like them. That he came to Skyside for the money, the weapons, or the intrigue, and try to bribe him accordingly. What's nothing like them, though. He doesn't concern himself with such trifles, and in all honesty, he could care less about his client's desire for discretion. His employers, unfortunately, realized this for themselves just one operation too late. The cleaners arrive just ahead of the police, but with the fire raging across the complex, there's not a thing worth taking. Once again, What did not show the discretion that was asked of him, and that is not okay.


    YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE! *BEEEEEP*
    Hi, this is Alex, from Grave's Graves! We understand you've been having some trouble with our orders as of late, so we're calling to let you know how things are going with the shipment. Let's see, according to our report...Good news, your tombstone has been engraved, and it's now ready to be delivered! With any luck you should be getting it before the weekend! Have a nice day!

    *CLICK*

    A gloved hand tapped a button on the answering machine, and all was silent.


    @Kris: Loved it. Noir parody is best parody.
    Quote Originally Posted by RabbitHoleLost View Post
    Magtok's the best
    "You probably found 'How to Survive a Robot Uprising' in the humor section. Let's just hope that is where it belongs."
    -Daniel H. Wilson
    The Original Hooded Magtok avvie by urodivoi
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  15. - Top - End - #255
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    OrchestraHc's Avatar

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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Never make a playing a character dependent on writing something for the story thread. Sweet Christmas, this took longer than I wanted.

    So I can get back to playing this character, here's Lola Anez in HELP WANTED.

    Spoiler
    Show
    “Do you have any experience?” is the question that has been plaguing her all day. Interviewer after interviewer who had been willing to see her at such short notice have unfortunately touched upon a question she couldn’t talk around.

    Lola was educated, three years into education and English courses at her college. She was friendly and got on well with every interviewer. They had even been accepting about her leather jacket, as she had no other clothes after being dropped in the nexus. They would believe whatever she told them, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie, and that’s what kept tripping her up.
    Yes she had years of education, but she had yet to take a course as a student teacher. Every time she was asked that question, her pragmatism went up against her honor and her honor one. She would answer, “No but…” and then try to give a convincing argument, but they fell on deaf ears.
    They would thank her for her honesty. Recommend some places or courses to get back on the educational fast track, maybe teach within a year. She took note of it, of course, but education would pay rent money. She couldn’t go back to Kayden, who’d been so generous as to let her stay with him, without something.

    Walking around, hoping for some opportunity to fall out of the sky, a help wanted sign caught her eye. It was attached behind the window of a small diner. She knew diners, after five years trying to get by without her parents; she had experience as a waitress. She hesitated. It would be falling right back into a routine you were trying to get the hell out of.

    Yeah, but rent, and education, if she wanted to follow her dream, cost money, and she owed it to her friend.

    She walked in and looked around, only two tables were occupied at the moment, two tables of folks just talking over soda, and the waitress was taking a probably well deserved lunch break at the counter. It was probably after the lunch rush if this was the case. The old cook was chatting it up with the waitress. She politely cleared her throat to get their attention. When they looked at her she pointed a thumb at help wanted sign. “Scuse me? Do you need another waitress?”

    The cook looked at the waitress at the counter and tilted his head towards the other end. She got the hint and moved to the end so Lola and the cook could talk with a semblance of privacy.

    “Yeah we are,” he answered. “Do you have any experience?” Right to that question, huh? Not nearly as much pageantry as her interviews at the public schools.

    “Five years.“ she replied.

    “Any special skills?”

    “I can turn into a wolf,” Lola answered, very blasé about it. The cook raised an eyebrow and Lola nodded. She was entirely serious about this.

    Scratching his chin he tilted his head and asked, “So you can work the night shift?”

    “Yeah.” Lola said, starting a smile.

    “Your hired.” He said, sticking out wrinkly hand that Lola gratefully accepted. “I can get you a uniform tomorrow, be here ‘round noon, get you get yourself in the swing of things.”

    “That’ll be fine. Thank you. See you tomorrow.” And with that she left. It would be embarrassing to explain, but it had been a long enough day. She wanted to crash on her new couch. The day after tomorrow she would have to sign up for some of those fast track courses. Right now she needed a nap.

    Pirate Justin avatar by myself. Emmi avatar by Gulaghar, Much Thanks!

    My Characters

  16. - Top - End - #256
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    5a Violista's Avatar

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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Note: These are not intentionally in any order, chronological or symbolic, so...sure. I'll continue posting more as they come to mind. They are also a little short, since they each are only small scenes composed of her thoughts.

    Harley Zorzo's Past
    Scene 1: Honor
    Spoiler: Honor
    Show
    "One," he breathed out in response, his breath fogging up the window. "Just one. That's all there is. That's all we have left." I looked out the window at him, shivering in the cold, but there was nothing I could have done to help him at the moment.

    I sighed in response. "Is that all? Surely the warlock will be forgiving of our town," I whispered. In spite of saying that, it wasn't what I believed. The warlock is not a forgiving man. We had already lost too many good men from his war conscription. I only hope this blasted war ends sooner than the cursed winter.

    "Now go," I told him. I couldn't let anyone else see me conversing with him. Anyone seen even looking at the traitor would be burned as a witch. I knew my mother was just waiting for me to slip up. One misplaced word, and she would eagerly hand me over to the loyalists. One single mistake, and I would be turned over to the warlock.

    I watched him trudge off through the snow. I'll have to take care of his footprints later today. Right now, though, I have to find a way to keep my half-sister from leaving the house. She could throw a wrench in all our plans. She might destroy our revolution before it even starts.

    I can't allow that to happen.

    My father's honor is at stake.


    Scene 2: Freedom
    Spoiler: Freedom
    Show
    There‘s only six guards left standing between me and my freedom. I even trained half of them. There‘s no chance they‘re stopping my escape; not while The Consolate was thrown into disarray after my trial.

    I easily dispatch half of them. Non-lethally, of course. Just weeks ago, I risked my life to save theirs. If I hadn‘t have saved them, they wouldn‘t have labeled me a traitor.

    Two more flee. After all, in all the weeks training them, not once could they match me in swordsmanship. Armed with nothing but my father‘s scabbard, I was sure to win.

    All that remains between me and sunlight is Jeremy. Boy, did he ever become such a brave knight. I can see his body quivering, but his voice is strong. “I can‘t let you pass. I gave my word as a knight. If that even means anything to you anymore.“

    I sigh. “Jeremy. I don‘t want to hurt you, so please just step aside. Noone will know.“

    He lunges at me. “If I have to die, so be it. But I will stop you.“ We continue our swordplay.

    “Jeremy, your footing is off. Please stop, or you‘ll break your ankle.“

    “I can‘t believe you. You were our mentor. I trusted you!“ As he swings his blade at me, I can‘t help but notice the tears on his face. “You said you cared about us. Or was it all a lie, from the very beginning? You‘re nothing but a lying demon!“

    Then, I hit him on the head with my scabbard. Jeremy was always bad at blocking head-shots. He crumpled, but I felt as if I was the one hit. “I‘m sorry.“ I ran up the stairs with a ball of sorrow in my chest.

    I was free, but why didn‘t I feel that way?


    Scene 3: Betrayal
    Spoiler: Betrayal
    Show
    There are fifteen minutes before this door breaks in. Fifteen minutes before a swarm of so-called "heroes" break through this last barrier and storm the castle, slaughtering everyone in their way. There's knights, mages, crossbowmen, and sages all battering at the door. I can feel every heave crash against the door. The wood's almost giving way.

    Why can't they just leave? The Queen of Shadows took us all in, knighted us, and charged us with protection over her daughter. Sure, there's all the atrocious things she's done, but there are some things you overlook for family. As much as I hate the princess, she's family.

    Now, there's only four more minutes before the door gives way. I give the order "to arms!" and all under my command get ready to fight a hopeless battle. The men take courage that I'm in charge - they figure there's a chance of survival if I'm directing the battle.

    Just before the doorway gave way, the loathsome princess and my queenly mother called me back from the defense. They knew of a secret passageway that would lead out. They wanted me to escort them safely through the passageway - after all, it would be dangerous and they would need help. My men would be the distraction as we fled.

    I betrayed my men and their cries of fear echoed throughout the castle as we slipped out into the night.


    Scene 4: Lies
    Spoiler: Lies
    Show
    One cannot understand how painful this is. Here I am, one literally born of evil, surrounded by holy knights. The pain isn't from any sort of mystical artifact or magic or whatever. Rather, it is from the knowledge that I am swearing an oath to uphold truth, righteousness, and goodness while at the same time I am being completely untruthful, unrighteous, ungood.

    Every word becomes deception as it leaves my mouth.

    Every thought becomes perverted because of my parents' sins.

    Every deed becomes evil due to my nature.

    I've been dreaming of this moment ever since I was born. I've been training for this moment ever since I could hold a sword. My disguise is perfect, my coat of arms is flawless, my story checks out.

    But it's all a lie.

    Nothing can change that.


    Scene 5: Change
    Spoiler: Change
    Show
    Twenty-seven. That's the number of people I assassinated last year. Next year, it will be zero. We've won the war, and everything seems alright. We finally have equality with the others.

    Actually, we haven't completely won the war; The Consulate has refused to sign the treaty. However, in the minds of every last person in the city, the war is over. Today, I'm at a dinner party with dozens of people from all over the country. We're in the house of a general, and I'm helping his wife prepare the turkey.

    Two weeks ago, all of us were facing each other, willing to kill at a moment's glance. Not one of us were on the same side. If, two weeks ago, someone had predicted we would all be together, laughing and telling war stories in the same house, that person would have been strung up and burned as a false prophet. Now, though...the laughter and music rings out throughout the house.

    Some of us were fighting for ideology. Others, for money. Some, for equality or freedom or laws. Six days ago, we drafted the treaty. If only The Consulate would sign it, this country would change for the better.

    Things change. Everything's going for the better. I can change; no more need for death.


    Scene 6: Fallen
    Spoiler: Fallen
    Show
    Thirty-three days ago, I was so sure of myself. I can hardly believe what has happened since. Thirty-three days ago, I had finally become a hero. Now, no more. Thirty-three days ago, I was what I had always dreamed of being.

    Now, I'm as vile a villain as I was before. I sought redemption, but now I realize that's not for me. I simply can't do it, despite what everyone says. I'm evil through and through; I was born like this and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

    Tears drip down my face. I wish it wasn't true. I wish it was possible. I wish I could undo everything. Start over. My mistake was trying to be good. If only I had accepted staying a villain, I wouldn't be so sad. If only I had stayed in the darkness, I would have never felt regret. If I had only stayed in the depths of the abyss, I wouldn't have seen what kind of monster I am. If only...if only...

    If only I had never seen the light, I would never have fallen.


    Scene 7: Pain
    Spoiler: Pain
    Show
    Seventy-seven steps down and the same amount back up. I've taken this trip so many times that I could do it with my eyes closed. I might as well, because it's as dark as pitch down here in the dungeons.

    This is the third time this week I've come down here. I'm being as quiet as I can because I know my mother doesn't want me to go down here. That's why I take my shoes off even though the stone floor is cold: so she won't hear my footsteps echo up into the house. I'll bet she's not even aware that I know about the secret trapdoor that leads here.

    Down at the very depths of this place, there's a few torches that are kept lit. There's seven doors here at the bottom. I don't know where six of them go, because they're always kept locked. But the third on the right is usually unlocked. The door creaks as I open it, but the man chained up in there is still asleep.

    I love his armor. It's so shiny. His sword is very well-made. It makes me feel comforted whenever I see it. Sometimes, I just stand here and watch him, wondering what sort of heroic knight he would be if he were free. Sometimes, I dream about saving him and bringing him out of this dungeon when I'm older, and we go off slaying dragons and great evils. Sometimes, I try talking with him.

    He hates me. Every waking breath of his is spent vowing to slay me and my mother. He doesn't know who brought him a blanket for the coldest nights, and he doesn't know how I sneak him some extra food every so often.

    He doesn't know how much it hurts every time he wishes I wasn't born.


    A brief explanation
    Last edited by 5a Violista; 2013-11-08 at 01:42 AM. Reason: Since you bothered to read this, I'll tell you the chronological order: 7423156
    Favorite sports:
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  17. - Top - End - #257
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    Lord Magtok's Avatar

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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    @Violinist: Loved it. I feel like I'm failing to connect some dots and make sense of this or that, but that might be because I haven't read it all in one go, or figured out what goes in what order.

    @Beans: I don't know **** about any of the characters involved, and had every intention of skipping over this, but the little flashes of samanthasdead sold me. I still have no idea what I read, but it made for a decent read all the same.

    Orch: I love things like this, bringing the Nexus to a more personal, emotional level.

    Anyways, I have a thing on the way, but right now it's only the vaguest of concepts. It's going to star Magtok, obviously, and maybe someone else's character in some silly shenanigans, but I haven't the foggiest idea who to match him up with.
    Quote Originally Posted by RabbitHoleLost View Post
    Magtok's the best
    "You probably found 'How to Survive a Robot Uprising' in the humor section. Let's just hope that is where it belongs."
    -Daniel H. Wilson
    The Original Hooded Magtok avvie by urodivoi
    You can find me (and people almost as great as me) on the Nexus Server For Cool Attractive People! Come join us!

  18. - Top - End - #258
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Arkhosia's Avatar

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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    @Lord Magtok
    Has he been partnered in a story with Reina?
    Or better yet: Tobias!

    Also, I'm thinking of typing up a backstory for either Celica or Invidia.

    EDIT: Celica's Story [WIP]
    Spoiler
    Show

    The dark streets were deserted, their only company provided by the moon. And even that, too, was gradually leaving. Silence ruled the streets.
    But that kingdom was promptly sundered. The noise of a pair of boots colliding into the asphalt, heavy breathing, and footfalls of others shattered the peaceful night.
    Last edited by Arkhosia; 2013-11-07 at 09:58 PM.
    Avatar by Gulaghar, thanks so much!

    "Are we living a life that is safe from harm? Of course not, we never are. But that's not the right question. The question is: are we living a life that is worth the harm?"
    ~Welcome to Night Vale

    Spoiler: Quotes from Friends <3
    Show
    Quote Originally Posted by Magtok
    If it'll keep you from linking that abomination ever again, then fine. You're evil enough. You win.

  19. - Top - End - #259
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    The Mad Hatter's Avatar

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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    Mahroni Violinist: Oh good. It's nice to finally know who Harley is, finally.

    Trucido Amare AKA Darth Calamity:

    Fear leads to anger; anger leads to hate; hate leads to suffering.

    Spoiler
    Show
    The log of Jedi Master Baer Thurt speaks of the origin of Trucido Amare, and the man's descent into the dark side. His log reads thusly.

    "It was often said that Jedi Knights Garn Kubo and Trucido Amare were to be the strongest Jedi of this century, and I myself believed it. Under the watchful and caring eyes of the famous Jedi Master Ai-Kal, the pair of friends had flourished into brilliant Jedi, the pride of our Academy. We all thought that one day, Kubo and Amare would one day teach and guide their own generation of Jedi.

    We were wrong on both accounts.

    We have gathered from various sources the full story of Trucido Amare, AKA Darth Calamity of the Sith Order. At the age of 24, Trucido was nearly finished training, and almost ready to be gifted the title of Jedi Master, along with his close friend Kubo. He was loyal, strong, and gifted. But he was lonely. He craved affection. He craved love. Jedi are forbidden from starting attachments with others, and for good reason. It clouds the mind. Jedi must remain detached from such emotion, for it clouds our judgement.

    One day, Trucido met with a vibrant young woman on the planet Kayrie 5. He was on a mission to guide a trade vessel to port there, and defend the vessel against the bandits common in the area. The ship arrived completely safe, all cargo protected. Trucido was to stay in port for days until the vessel was finished unloading. The curious man had met her there. Her name was Syren, AKA Darth Serpentia. The Jedi spent a week with the alluring, kind, and mysterious female. She was pretending to be a bounty hunter, and in reality, had been chosen to seduce and captivate Trucido or Garn, whichever one, for it was unknown to the sith which would appear. Had it been Garn, Darth Serpentia would surely have been caught.

    But it wasn't. She was everything the lonely man had been craving, and in merely days he had fallen in love completely with the woman. Madly in love. He would have died for the woman. We discovered this information in Trucido's log, where he had written down his accounts of Serpentia. He would have died for her. Trucido had to eventually leave, and so Syren begged Trucido to take her with him. Trucido eagerly agreed, and she was smuggled aboard. For months she was hidden away from everyone around Trucido, corrupting his mind without him ever knowing. He had separated himself from most people around him, most especially Garn.

    It wasn't noticeable. He simply often went on walkabout through the mountains for a few days, telling his close friends and superiors that he was going to meditate and observe natural life, attempting to truly become one with the force. In reality, Trucido Amare was seeing Syren. Eventually, Syren revealed her true nature to Trucido, that she was in fact a Sith Lord. Trucido was greatly hurt and confused. But, he was in love, and by that time... Nothing could stop him from wanting to be with Syren. He had grown so attached, and he had started down the steep path into darkness.

    They swore they'd be together, even though he was Jedi and she was Sith. But... Her ulterior motives must have shown through. She showed Trucido the powers of the Dark Side of the Force. Taught him how powerful emotions like the love he had for her could grant him powers beyond his wildest dreams. But she never taught him about Hate. Or Anger. Or Suffering. She trained him in the Sith ways, seducing and changing the powerful Jedi we all knew, until there was hardly anything left. He visited the mountains three times, each time for a whole month, all the while ignoring his friends.

    Soon, his emotions ruled him. He had become more beast than man... More animal than Jedi. His entire mindset was warped. She had taught him the Sith Code. The Sith Ways. And one day... He was deemed Darth Calamity. And she revealed her name. Darth Serpentia. They descended from the mountains, his purple lightsaber beside her red. They were to wipe out Trucido's past. Jedi by Jedi. The only Jedi Master in the Compound was Master Ai-Kal, and Garn was the only Jedi Knight. The rest were the fifteen apprentices from ages 15-20, learning under Ai-Kal's guidance.

    The pair of Sith snuck inside in the night, clad in black robes. Reapers of death. They started by sneaking into the barracks of the fifteen apprentices, the pale moonlight shining down through the windows as the young Jedi lay asleep in their beds. The pair of Sith destroyed them, every last apprentice dead in their beds, the Sith enjoying the feelings death and combat presented to them, their love growing stronger with each drop of blood spilt, a terrible love story. A tragedy. The deaths of the apprentices were sensed by Garn Kubo and Master Ai-Kal. The surviving pair quickly rushed to the center of the compound, the long hall.

    The Sith broke the massive iron doors in, their powers denting the metal. The pair walked into the long Hallway, the ten massive stone columns supporting the high ceiling. At the other end, Master Ai-Kal stood with his yellow lightsaber blazing high, Garn's Yellow and Blue shining beside his Master. The Sith walked to the center of the hall, and waited. The Jedi moved to the pair of Sith, and battle commenced. The camera's recorded the entire battle, and the duel was incredible. Darth Serpentia went against Master Ai-Kal, while Darth Calamity and Garn Kubo battled. Friend against friend.

    The battle raged for a solid twenty minutes, lightsabers flashing endlessly, a flurry of red, yellow, purple, and blue. In a flash and a use of the force, Darth Serpentia eventually force pushed both Garn and Master Ai-Kal away from Trucido and herself. Master Ai-Kal was knocked hard into the back wall and split his skull, forcing the Jedi Master unconscious. Serpentia also force choked Garn Kubo into temporary submission, forcing Garn to watch as she beckoned Trucido to saber Master Ai-Kal.

    How terrible that must have been... Garn watched as Trucido moved closer to Ai-Kal. There was a terrible flash of purple light, then Jedi Master Ai-Kal became one with the force, his head rolling to Kubo's feet. In a bold act, Garn Kubo force pulled Master Ai-Kal's yellow lightsaber to levitate behind Darth Calamity and Darth Serpentia as they moved closer to finish Garn off. Serpentia was struck in the side, and fell to the ground screaming, but alive. Next, Trucido Force Pulled Serpentia's red saber to his free hand.

    Then there was yet another duel, Red and Purple versus Yellow and Blue. During the battle, Kubo was disarmed and force pushed away from Darth Calamity. Trucido walked towards Garn slowly, eager to inflict his vengeance on Garn. Trucido felt Anger. Felt Revenge. And had used those emotions to better Garn for once. Garn had no choice. He grabbed a sonic grenade that he had taken to the battle from his room, and threw it at Trucido. The Sith wasn't at all expecting it.

    It was bloody and violent. It went off, deafening Trucido and horribly destroying his teeth down to the roots. In the process, the explosion also collapsed a column. Darth Serpentia was crushed beneath the massive stone, her body destroyed under the weight. However, Garn Kubo's leg was also trapped under the column, pinning the Jedi down. His Master's yellow lightsaber was flung from his hand. Trucido watched in horror at the destruction all around him. The woman he loved was gone forever. He had killed so many. He had killed his Master. And his face was a horrible disfigured mess. He pulled Master A-Kal's saber towards him, and stuffed it in his belt beside Serpentia's.

    Darth Calamity fled from the Jedi Compound, bleeding and deaf, his face destroyed. However, he has survived. It is known that Darth Calamity still roams the galaxy, murdering, killing, and stealing. Rumors are that the Sith had surgery on his face and teeth, repairing himself. Garn Kubo has become Master Garn Kubo and sustained no lasting physical injuries from the battle. Master Garn Kubo was last seen battling Darth Calamity over Mustafar. They have not been seen for months, and it is common belief that both perished in the molten fire by eachother's hands.

    And that is the Tragedy of Trucido Amare. Victim or Monster?"
    Last edited by The Mad Hatter; 2013-11-08 at 03:37 PM.
    don't click this

  20. - Top - End - #260
    Troll in the Playground
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    Exclamation Please use this format for marking up story headers!

    I just realized - Holy crap, I haven't indexed anything all year. So now I've gotten partly caught up, as far as Harley Zorzo's past, but need a break. I did it! Everything before this post should be indexed. If your story isn't indexed, or is indexed incorrectly, poke me via PM or OOC thread.

    Just a reminder, telling me the character or topic the story is about REALLY makes things easier for me. Also please make it clear whether the story is Canon or Non-Canon/Alt/Quasi/Etc. Some stuff may have gotten mis-indexed because I couldn't tell, and can't read stories and index at the same time.


    1

    For indexing purposes, the preferred format for stories is:

    [b]Character or Topic[/b] (Optional note if Alt-Canon)
    [i]Story Title[/i]
    [spoiler]story goes here[/spoiler]

    You won't get penalized for using a different format, but the closer it is to this, the more likely it is to get indexed correctly.

    If you discover any indexing errors, or would simply like your story indexed differently, please let me know.
    Last edited by happyturtle; 2013-11-08 at 08:19 AM.
    My avatar! Isn't it just utterly diabolical? Ashen Lilies made it!

    "Money cannot buy health, but I'd settle for a diamond-studded wheelchair."
    ― Dorothy Parker


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  21. - Top - End - #261
    Titan in the Playground
     
    Morty's Avatar

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    Default Re: [Nexus] Stories etc

    While you're indexing the stories, please remove my entries from the table. I've finally realized I should never have bothered writing them in the first place.
    Last edited by Morty; 2013-11-19 at 06:55 PM.
    My FFRP characters. Avatar by Ashen Lilies. Sigatars by Ashen Lilies, Gulaghar and Purple Eagle.

  22. - Top - End - #262
    Orc in the Playground
     
    Darkcomet's Avatar

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    DC

    Kindness Kills and Cruelty Saves
    Spoiler
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    Hate festers. It twists people into mockeries of themselves, it tears them apart, remakes them for its own purpose. But sometimes, other emotions can be far more insidious than hate.

    DC wasn't that hateful, really. He put on a show of it, but it was only a mask of hate. An image hiding the true nature of his personal demons.

    No, the real monster was guilt.

    Lapsed out of common memory is the fact that DC of Watchtower and Evolution Industries, considered trigger-happy by many, was once the Vice President of the Good League of Good, and was as merciful as any from that organization. Indeed, he seemed like a poster boy for the League's mission of redemption, but that redemption ultimately proved the undoing of his stability.

    Because once, when an enemy of reality was dead, contained, DC freed him. That enemy went on to commit yet more atrocities, attempting to destroy the universe again. But the League tried again. This time, he shifted his goals, instead becoming corrupted by another and committing a far more personally horrific act by stripping many of his prior victims of their sapience and reducing them to base, feral animals.

    And that was the day the Vice President of the League began to die, because you see, it was his fault.

    Kindness kills

    Because he was wrong.

    Because of him, unknowable numbers of people died and suffered horribly.

    It didn't hit immediately, oh no. Because at least the monster was dead, and it couldn't go on anymore. But then he returned, and the League made the same choice, and it kept on and on no matter what DC or anyone else said.

    They were making the same mistake he did again, and for all the need to keep everything stable, no one could do a thing about it. And so nothing was done.

    But guilt festers as much as hate. Normally, this is not necessarily bad: It is a motivator to better oneself, to do good rather than evil. Yet, when the guilt is over mercy, it can be just as terrible a thing as hatred. Worse, even, because the 'right' path actively looks to be morally wrong.

    Mercy slipped from his mind.

    and cruelty saves

    Whenever he saw an enemy, he did not see the life that could be spared, the person that could be changed, rehabilitated. He saw only the death that enemy could bring. Only the suffering that life would cause. Only the lives that could be snuffed out if this one was spared. He never liked it, of course, despite all one might accuse him of. But one life, one that has already crossed lines, to him, is a small price to pay for the lives of gods know how many others.

    He has been a roiling cauldron of guilt and hate built from that guilt for years, the blood of untold numbers of people on his hands.

    And then, in the course of a battle over AMEN, someone made what may very well have been a terrible mistake. The curse inflicted on him in the battle over the mountain included a portion that causes emotional amplification. This would not be that bad in and of itself, considering it had to be specifically triggered, but then, in an attempt at removing the curse, DC instead scrambled and destabilized it.

    The mask over the built-up guilt and fury shattered in that instant, for good or ill. The only certainty is that one should probably not be comfortable with a questionably-stable super-scientist whose veneer of sanity has had a gigantic hole punched in it...


    Written primarily as an explanation, as the motivations behind some recent developments go back years and memories can be pretty short, so I decided to preempt being questioned/accused of anything about it. [/paranoia]
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  23. - Top - End - #263
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    Silence and Lily Alt / possible future
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    Silence knew before he turned around that Lily was angry. The feel through the ground of her stomping told it all, as did the scent of adrenaline. He looked up from his work, observed the way her ears were laid back, and gave her his attention.

    Of course Lily told him everything. Not that he listened very carefully to the words. Her words always came so fast, tumbling over one another like water spilling over rocks in a brook. He let the words flow over him. There were easier ways to learn.

    She'd had a fight with her parents. Again. Silence had guessed as much, and it was a relief that it was nothing more. She was so spirited that she struggled against their restraints, like a bird in a net. The fact that her brother consented quietly made it more difficult for her parents to accept that the younger child wanted and needed more freedom. It was a fight that happened again and again, sometimes between Lily and her parents, sometimes between Lily and Tito. The details, which she was giving him now in a tone between hurt and outrage, were irrelevant. There was so much beneath the words - the love they all shared for each other, the bonds that held her close to her brother, her adoration of her parents, their pride in their daughter - that he could never worry seriously that there would be a family breach. It would be more peaceful if they could all live as he did, without words.

    Instead, he watched the sunlight in Lily's hair, and the flash of her copper green eyes, and listened to her words splashing over him, up and down and around him, only a few soaking through. Again, like water. Some of the words would penetrate and wet him, but most would roll off his fur. He put a paw on her shoulder and felt the tension in the muscles of her shoulder.

    "It's not fair, Silence!" These words wet him, because he'd heard them so often before. "I told them I was ready to go out and earn my name, and they said I already had a name! I even promised I would keep the same name, like you did, but they still won't let me go!"

    Silence had returned from his own Namequest a few months ago. He'd told her very little of what had happened, but made it clear that his Name was still Silence. He hadn't known, despite all of the words she spilled on him every day, that Lily had intended to go on her own quest, and wondered if she'd told him before.

    He tilted his head, and gave her a questioning look. Why?

    "Because they think I'll get hurt! They don't understand! How will I ever prove to them that I'm a grownup if I don't do something ... something big, and important? They'll always, always, treat me like a child!"

    Silence nuzzled her gently. How could he tell the Applehills that Lily, their own little cub, had grown into a beautiful young woman? Couldn't they smell that she was no longer a child? No, he kept forgetting how little other species could do with their noses.

    He inhaled deeply, tasting the peppery spice of her rage, and the hollow almond flavour of her frustration. And underneath and overtop and all through it all, the piquant richness of her passion - stronger than he'd ever experienced it before.

    And while her words kept spilling out, he heard a faint noise from his throat - not quite a growl, because he didn't growl, didn't make any throat noises at all - but maybe it would have turned into a growl if he hadn't been mute for so long. It was enough to startle Lily. "Silence, what..?"

    He pounced on her, knocked her flat on her back, and nipped her neck. He felt her hands reaching up to his shoulders, burying themselves in his fur, and he heard...

    ... her breathing. Her heartbeat. The birdcall. The wind in the treetops.

    But no words.

    He lifted his head, and she met his gaze. And his tail began to slowly wag as he realized that for the first time in her life, Lily Applehill was speechless.
    Last edited by happyturtle; 2013-12-24 at 04:19 PM.
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  24. - Top - End - #264
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    @Words: Adorable. It's fun to see a glimpse into an older Lily.
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  25. - Top - End - #265
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    Leo Krilangi
    Pre-Nexus, History Lesson 1: All Creation (Canon)
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    Set prior to any story with any degree of depth is some manner of history. The story of Leo Krilangi is no exception, and there is considerable depth to the universe from which he was expelled into the Nexus. His home is an alternate Earth, complete with matching geographical and historical parallels. There are some differences, of course, but we shall concern ourselves with one of these at a time, beginning with the first and most prominent: the tale of All Creation.

    The Advent of All Creation
    In the wake of the much-theorized Big Bang, there was a significant absence of activity, particularly of life; the most precedented happenings involved the collision and subsequent destruction of planet-masses and stars. Somewhere in the miasma of anti-matter, though, a single, intangible, unintelligible entity made its advent upon a single solar system - and, within it, a single planet. This formless-yet-omnipresent force, now known only as "All Creation", took interest in the planet now called Earth and nurtured it as a mother would tend to a newborn. Its radiant energy acted as a catalyst, promoting widespread growth on its surface; before long, water and air began to spring from the planet's bosom, followed soon by flora and fauna of innumerable diversity.

    At first, Earth belonged only to its inhabitants, and all things upon it existed solely for their benefit. Sadly, abundance gave birth to greed, and when the more powerful creatures began to hoard finite resources, the scarcity of those resources bred violent upclashes. Entire species slaughtered one another while vying for control over what little they could scavenge from their competitors; so terrible was the power wielded by these ancient creatures that the casualties of their skirmishes reached far beyond themselves. Horror-struck by this plague of suffering and death, All Creation could not allow it to continue, and it sent a great calamity down upon the world to wipe the slate clean: a massive ball of fire that scorched the earth's surface, wiping away the majority of all life upon it.

    The Founding of the Laws of Natural Balance
    In the aftermath of its cleansing of Earth, the force of All Creation enacted a number of tenets that would be upheld by any survivors of the cleansing and of the cold snap that followed. Though the exact dictation of these tenets has been lost in translation through the years, it remains clear that balance was and still is critical to the preservation of the planet. According to these ideals, no life would be taken without just cause, no favor would be given to any who was not deserving of it, and for every thing taken from another, something would be given in return. Any disputes would be decided with finality by All Creation itself, and catastrophic failure to uphold these all-encompassing laws would result only in another planetary cleansing; after all, the Earth was its brain-child, and though it would not give up its efforts to make it a self-sufficient and self-governing refuge for all, it would not hesitate to annihilate its residents if they threatened its work.

    After the planet recovered from its "ice age" and began to warm again, living creatures began to reappear upon, above, and within it. Only a few of the majestic precursors to this new world remained, and they numbered so few that they hid themselves away for fear of extinction, their presence fading into memory and then into legend. Among the new species to rise from the proverbial ashes of the old world were humans, clever and resourceful beings who learned to use their resources in many inventive ways as dictated by necessity. These ancient humans realized the value in moderation and temperance, and they took pains to foster their world and replenish it for every boon they reaped of it.

    The Legacy of the First Humans
    Pleased by the obedience of humans to its tenets of balance, All Creation deemed them worthy of inheriting some of its power and knowledge. It sent a comet blazing forth from the cosmos, crashing into the heart of human civilization. Though first conceived as an ill omen from on high, it was soon revealed that the meteorite held an incredible gift: the power to change the world as they deemed fit, using the very energy of All Creation as a potent catalyst. Those exposed to the meteorite developed the capacity to comprehend the scope and influence of All Creation, and they delivered unto their peers the knowledge of its existence and of its creed. Before long, the human race became masters of the planet, of its fundamental forces, and of all living things around them. They guided Earth and all its denizens into a bright and prosperous era, and All Creation began to see hope for its planet again...
    Last edited by ImpSyndrome; 2014-01-28 at 12:53 PM.

  26. - Top - End - #266
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    ClericGuy

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    Leo Krilangi
    Pre-Nexus, History Lesson 2: The Spiritualists of Jzivu (Canon)
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    All Creation Reclaims Its Blessing
    As the population of the human race began to grow, All Creation became aware of the dangers of making its powers commonplace among them; after all, power of this magnitude had shed much blood in the previous age. At some point in time, it called a powerful storm that swept up the humans who had made their homes around the meteorite that had endowed them with All Creation's might, casting them far away and instructing them never to seek it out again. Once its favored servants had been spirited away, it struck the meteorite with a lightning bolt, splitting it into numerous fragments and draining it of its ethereal gift.

    The Isolation of Jzivu
    Over time, as the population of humanity grew, those who had inherited the gift of All Creation knew that those without would inevitably come to fear and hate them for their power. They resolved to make themselves scarce and live apart from the rest of their kind in order to prevent open conflict, vowing only to return to humanity if their presence was absolutely necessary. They chose their moment, waiting for the day when humanity had learned independence from their abilities, and vanished from the public eye before escaping to a small archipelago in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. A massive illusion was conjured around their haven, one that would deter anyone who drew too near. Only after ensuring that their safeguards would repel any prying eyes did the chosen few begin to build their new homes on the islands of Jzivu.

    Separation of Powers
    Despite being divided by the boundaries of their island homes, the various tribes of gifted humans cooperated well with each other, working together to complement each other's strengths and maintain self-sufficiency. The conservation of their powers extended their lives, allowing them to sustain their lives for nearly four-hundred years on average. After several centuries, though, some individuals began to discover new abilities that were once kept dormant within themselves. This marked the discovery of spiritual powers, and the people appropriately adopted the collective title of "spiritualists". Over the next few decades, many new sub-types emerged from the archaic houses, including: six elemental tribes, specializing in the manipulation of fundamental matter; four "cardinal" tribes, who drew power from direction forces; the tribes of Heart and Soul, who possessed skills beneficial to the living and dead, respectively; and, last but not least, the ever-controversial Cosmic tribe, said to wield control over forces beyond even the scope of All Creation...
    Last edited by ImpSyndrome; 2014-01-28 at 12:53 PM.

  27. - Top - End - #267
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    On the Origin of Species [WIP]
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    Darkness fell upon the decrepit ruins, and Captain Hectare Eyrecrad surveyed the land as she stood atop the steep hill rising about 10 meters away. Her black cloak with the symbol of the Eyrecrad clan, a violet wyvern with it's wings outstretched and it's tail extended downwards, fluttered in the wind, revealing her leather armor and a holy symbol of Erathis hanging from her waist. Her tanned face turned toward the ruins and her piercing green eyes watched the crumbling gateway below.
    Drow clad in dark robes guarded it, longswords and crossbows held at the ready.
    Hecatae turned towards her fellow expedition members, ten other humans with tan skin in forest green robes holding wands and staffs or clad in heavy armor wielding various blades.
    Alright men and women, listen up! These drow are guarding an old temple holding an ancient artifact! You know the procedure.
    The troops moved to flank the gateway, wizards ands paladins moving to the left and right. They hid behind the ruins, and prepared for battle.
    Now!
    The paladins charged, and dueled the drow. The wizards hung back and acted as artillery, sending blasts of flame and ice rocketing into the drow. Hectare herself charged, cutting down the guards with ruthless efficiency.
    The dark elves never stood a chance.
    Good job men! Let's move in.
    The squad marched into the ruins.
    They marched through the derelict, broken city, a once magnificent city of sandstone spires and cavernous castles. No one knows what caused it to fall to this very day.
    This place is really creepy.
    I know right?
    Anyone else feel like they're being watched?
    What would cause those spiderkissers to defend this ruin?
    Maybe that place holds the answer.

    Hectare points to a weathered, yet intact, temple up ahead.
    The men entered the temple, a large sandstone structure with statues of wraiths lining the walls.
    A black blade rested in a stone in the center that emitted a faint red light.
    Ah, that explains it. Alduin, retrieve the artifact.
    Yes ma'am.
    A paladin stepped up to the blade and attempted to pull it out. His grip was lost as he was startled by a voice.
    HOW DARE YOU DEFILE MY TEMPLE! YOU HAVE SLAUGHTERED MY FOLLOWERS AND TRESSPASSED UPON MY HOME!
    We apologize oh great holy o-
    SPARE ME YOUR DRIVEL! YOUR MEN HAVE STRUCK A KILLING BLOW, DO YOU EXPECT FORGIVENESS! SHALL YOU, YOUR MEN, AND ALL OF YOUR DESCENDANTS SUFFER FOR THIS!
    The men begn to change, and so did their children and wives or husbands. Their skin became grey, and they sprouted reptilian tails. Their eyes became spheres of color, and some grew horns and claws.
    Last edited by Arkhosia; 2013-12-27 at 01:36 AM.
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  28. - Top - End - #268
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    Since I'm not going to write anything else ever, I might as well do some commenting instead.

    Leo Krilangi, Part 1: Not sure what to make of it. It's less story and more history, but that's what it's advertised to be. Can't say I'm fond of sapient, omniscient guiding forces behind the universe, though.

    On the Origin of Species: It could stand to be longer. As it is, everything just sort of happens at once.
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  29. - Top - End - #269
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    Quote Originally Posted by Morty View Post
    Since I'm not going to write anything else ever, I might as well do some commenting instead.

    Leo Krilangi, Part 1: Not sure what to make of it. It's less story and more history, but that's what it's advertised to be. Can't say I'm fond of sapient, omniscient guiding forces behind the universe, though.

    On the Origin of Species: It could stand to be longer. As it is, everything just sort of happens at once.
    Hence why it's a WIP
    Avatar by Gulaghar, thanks so much!

    "Are we living a life that is safe from harm? Of course not, we never are. But that's not the right question. The question is: are we living a life that is worth the harm?"
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    Quote Originally Posted by Magtok
    If it'll keep you from linking that abomination ever again, then fine. You're evil enough. You win.

  30. - Top - End - #270
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    Quote Originally Posted by Morty View Post
    Leo Krilangi, Part 1: Not sure what to make of it. It's less story and more history, but that's what it's advertised to be. Can't say I'm fond of sapient, omniscient guiding forces behind the universe, though.
    First of all, thanks for the comment; it helps a lot to get feedback on my compositions. Yours is a fair assessment, as it really is just supposed to be informative. Once I get through with the history lessons, I'll get into some actual storytelling, which ought to be more interesting.

    As for the role of All Creation, I should mention that the story behind it is based on the most trustworthy information Leo has and is not necessarily accurate to the letter. By calling it "the tale of All Creation" in the first paragraph, I meant to imply that it's composed of facts distorted by time and misinterpretation. I'll try to clarify that in the existing parts.

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